


Aftermath

by AuraSweet13



Category: Ten: Murder Island
Genre: Dissociation, F/M, Gen, Nightmares, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 21:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12141297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuraSweet13/pseuds/AuraSweet13
Summary: No one ever said recovery would be easy.





	Aftermath

To be completely honest, Meg Pritchard didn't remember the trip away from White Rock House. Oh, sure, she knew that they had gotten the boat onto the water and driven it away, and she very vaguely remembered being the one to do so thanks to TJ's gunshot wound, but she didn't remember fuelling it or putting the keys in the ignition. Her mind whirled, but she couldn't seem to pin down any specific thoughts. She could hear a voice that was vaguely familiar, a young man, but she couldn't make out what he was saying-it sounded like she was hearing him from underwater.

The boat jolted and then stopped, and she let go of the wheel.

She could hear several voices now, see several blurry faces. Instinctively, she tried to move away, but everything spun.

As the floor rushed up to meet her, everything went mercifully black.

 

When she found her way out of the fog in her brain, she opened her eyes to find that she was in her bedroom, under her comfortable sheets. Glancing down, she saw that her stuffed raccoon was tucked against her side.

But, how was that possible? She'd left all of her things back at White Rock House.

Regardless of how it was there, her fingers curled around it immediately.

A cursory glance around her room let her know that her laptop was back safely on her desk, charger cord in its usual spot and all, the bag she had brought to the house against the wall by the door. Empty.

She threw back the covers to find her clothing different. She wore a beige shirt that she'd had on under her sweater, and her legs were bare. Meg got out of the bed, going over to grab a pair of sweatpants from her drawer, pulling them on before heading towards the closed door. Placing her hand on it, she twisted the knob and opened it.

Meg could hear two masculine voices downstairs.

Clutching onto the railing harder than was probably necessary, she slowly made her way down the stairs. She swore she could see numbers painted in red on the walls in her peripheral as she did so, and she blinked hard in an attempt to get rid of them. Once she got to the last step, she stopped in her tracks.

Her dad was sitting at the kitchen table. But he wasn't alone.

"TJ?" She got out, voice sounding like she hadn't used it in years.

Both their heads snapped towards her. "What are you doing out of bed?" Her dad, Mason Pritchard, asked, his tone unusually concerned. She knew he loved her, sure, but since her mother's passing, he had been far more strict and clinical.

"I..." She started to say, but closed her mouth, realizing she didn't have an answer for him. Well, not one that wouldn't make him worry, anyway. So, she shrugged instead. "I don't know."

He walked towards her and then, before she really registered what was happening, he'd wrapped her in his embrace. "I'm so glad you're okay." He whispered, and his voice was thick. Like he was about to start crying.

The dam inside her broke, fully releasing all the emotions she'd been feeling. not just over the 24 and some hours she'd been at White Rock, but over the past several months. Years, even. Her fingers twisted into his shirt to keep him close. "Dad." She sobbed. As she did so, she thought about the others. The ones who hadn't survived.

The ones whose parents would have to bury them.

In that moment, she was so grateful to be in her dad's arms there weren't any words to properly describe it.

Meg stretched her hand out to TJ once she had calmed down a little. "TJ, come here." She murmured, voice soft.

TJ came over immediately, dropping to his knees and then reaching out to wrap his arms around her, so she was sandwiched in a hug between him and her father.

Her eyes slid closed and she exhaled a sigh as she basked in the fact that she was safe and at home.

 

When Meg opened her eyes, she was in the bed she'd slept in at White Rock House. And she was alone. Turning onto her side, she saw Minnie's bed was empty.

"Hello, Meg." Gasping, she faced forward and saw Tom there. His face was nearly unrecognizable with all the blood, but his speech was unaffected. "Don't bother looking for someone to help you, it's just you and me." He stalked towards her.

"You're dead." She blurted.

"You thought TJ was dead, too, if I remember correctly." He responded, climbing onto the bed. "Now, I'm going to finish what I started, and you are going to join the other bullies in Hell." She tried in vain to unseat him, but he didn't so much as budge, despite the small bed. His hands came to her throat, squeezing, and her mind flicked back to the boathouse as she tried to dig her fingers into his hands to get them off her neck. Nothing she did worked. He wouldn't budge. Black spots danced in her vision as he tightened his grip, and she tried to get air into her lungs. But she couldn't.

Her vision started to tunnel, and when he spoke, his voice sounded far off. "Give my regards to the others."

 

Meg woke screaming. She screamed until her throat was hoarse, some part of her knowing that she knew she should be quiet because her dad was probably sleeping, but unable to make herself be quiet. She clapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to do so, but the door of her room was slamming open and her dad was already running inside.

"Meg, sweetheart, what happened?" He asked, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Meg looked at him. "I didn't wake you, did I?" She whispered. It was bad enough that she wasn't sleeping, but to know that her screaming had woke him up would be even worse.

He shook his head and drew her into his embrace again. Like he'd done when she was four and she'd scraped her knee falling off her bike. She buried her face in his chest. "No, baby girl, you didn't wake me, don't worry." She relaxed feeling his hand stroke her hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Meg didn't know how much her dad knew about the ordeal. Since TJ had been here, and they'd been talking, she assumed TJ had told him some things, but she didn't know  _what_  specifically.

And frankly she was too scared to ask.

"Not right now." She murmured.

She felt him nod. "Okay." He murmured, pulling back to look at her. "Is there any chance you'd be up to have a mug of butterscotch hot chocolate with your old man?" He asked, smiling gently.

Meg returned it. "You're not old, Dad." She told him. "But, yeah, I'd love that."

"Well then." He stood up and held out his hand to her, bowing deeply. "Shall we, my lady?"

A giggle escaped her as she took his hand. "I'd be delighted, kind sir." She let him gently pull her from the bed and they walked downstairs together.

About five minutes later, they were seated at the table beside each other, drinking their hot chocolates. Meg's toes curled as the warmth seeped into her body. "Dad, how much did TJ tell you?" She asked after some internal debate.

He set his mug down. "Well, he told me that when you first arrived, there were ten of you. And that, when you two came back in the boat, all of the others were dead." Meg swallowed, nodding, but her father didn't take his eyes off her. "He also told me that you found every one of the bodies."

Meg squeezed her eyes shut, nodding again. "Yeah. I mean, he was with me for most of them, so I didn't technically find all of them." She somehow got out without breaking down. She took another sip of hot chocolate, the mug shaking in her hands.

"Meg." He spoke, and she opened her eyes to look at him. "I can only imagine how difficult what you're going through must be. But I want you to know that you're not alone. You have me, and you have TJ. If you ever need to talk, I want you to know that you can come to me, okay?"

Meg nodded. "Okay, dad, I will."

He continued speaking. "And if there's anything you need, I want you to tell me that too."

These words gave her pause. Did she dare? She took a deep breath. "Dad, I think I need medication."

**Author's Note:**

> This movie has its hooks in me, okay? I can't help it. I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter!


End file.
